When you were young
by stardustkr7
Summary: Stephanie didn't know why Damian kept glaring at her ever since she came back to work, but it was really getting frustrating. Was he really that upset that Dick had asked her to take over as Nightwing for a bit? It was ridiculous. This whole thing was only temporary anyway. And Damian was supposed to be doing the Batman thing now.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Not sure how many chapters this is going to have, probably two or three.

You could kind of say this is connected with my other story 'Paternity Leave' but I'm not officially calling it a sequel because I may change details I already wrote there. So yeah. Enjoy!

* * *

Stephanie didn't know why Damian kept glaring at her ever since she came back to work, but it was really getting frustrating. Was he really that upset that Dick had asked her to take over as Nightwing for a bit? It was ridiculous. This whole thing was only temporary anyway. And Damian was supposed to be doing the Batman thing now.

But still, the tall eighteen year old would scowl at her while she was working in the cave. And when she tried to ask him to spar to help get her back up to speed, it only ended in disaster. He had gotten, dare she say it, flustered with her apparent inability and fled the gym only four minutes in to their session.

The last time he had acted like this was her last year of being Batgirl, almost four years ago, during which Damian was just starting puberty.

Stephanie paused, frowning at the swinging punching bag before her.

_No … he got over all that, right?_

She had stopped doing hero work because she had been accepted to graduate school and thus had barely seen Damian Wayne anymore. It wasn't like they ran in similar social circles. Batgirl and Robin had been their connection. And while it had been tenuous at first, they had parted on good terms. There had even been a few instances where he curtly used her first name. And by the age of thirteen, he had stopped calling her 'fatgirl'(mostly because Kara threatened to beat the living snot out of him if she heard him say it again, but still).

Personally, Stephanie thought she had been exceedingly understanding of Damian's wild rollercoaster through puberty. She tried not to wear too tight of shirts around him and she didn't laugh (too much) when he had an untimely, noticeable arousal in her presence.

But for reals, the kid was eighteen now, way past the age of being unable to control his hormones. If that was even the problem.

_It's not all about you, Steph_, she told herself wryly. Damian Wayne was tall, handsome, and very wealthy. He had girls falling all over him, according to the tabloids. He probably wasn't interested in a woman who was almost ten years older than him, subsisting on a grad student stipend, and only had a connection to him through their nighttime activities. No, that hormone-laced attraction of his youth had long since been gone.

So why did he keep giving her the stink eye?

And why did it bother her so much?

_Why don't you stop standing there like an idiot and go ask him?_

Sometimes her inner voice was kind of bitchy.

Stephanie strode over to the entryway of the gym in the Batcave, pulling off her gloves and tossing them to the ground. She found him seated before the computer, faint frown on his chiseled face, his sapphire blue eyes intently focused on the screen.

"What do you want, Brown?"

Stephanie tried not to wince at his tone as she walked up behind the chair. Of course, there was no sneaking up on the son of the Batman.

She sighed and said, "What is your deal, Damian? You've been a real ass to me ever since I came back to town."

He made his little "tt" noise, somewhere between a tut and a snort of derision. It was one thing both Bruce and Dick had failed to socialize out of him, despite the remarkable work they had done to make the boy a little milder in his manners.

"Nothing, Brown. Are you going out with Nell tonight?" he asked curtly, changing the subject.

She couldn't help but notice the new Batgirl earned her first name but suddenly she had been reverted back to her surname. Maybe something was there.

"Yes, we're covering the docks, midtown, and the diamond district," Stephanie reported, crossing her arms.

Damian finally made the mistake of turning around to scowl at her. In the dim light of the computer screen, she saw his eyes flicker down and his pupils dilate slightly before quickly focusing on her face.

_Oh?_

He cleared his throat. "Fine. I will be taking my usual route. You may go."

Stephanie raised an eyebrow at the dismissal. "Excuse me? You may be wearing the suit, but that doesn't mean you get to boss me around. Don't forget that I knew you when you were ten."

His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. "Don't you have extra training to do, Brown?"

"It would have been going quicker if you hadn't stormed off in a temper just because surprise surprise! It's been four years and I'm a little rusty still! What the hell is wrong with you? It's like you've reverted to your childhood monster form again!"

She probably shouldn't have lost her temper like that, especially when his eyes widened slightly at the accusation. It was still a sensitive subject and she knew how hard he had worked as a child to overcome his birth and become a hero. To throw it around so callously was undoubtedly cruel.

But where seven or so years ago he might have threatened to stab her, now he just glared at her before growling, "I have work to do," and storming off.

_Good one, Steph… you really got to the bottom of that …_

* * *

"Hey, do you know what's been up with Damian lately?" Nightwing asked as they took a break on a favorite rooftop. It had been a fairly good evening of kicking butt out on the streets of Gotham.

"What do you mean?" Batgirl inquired, sipping a coffee.

"Ever since I came back, he's had a stick up his ass or something," Stephanie said, rolling her eyes.

Nell giggled a little. "He's always like that, especially now that he's Batman."

"Yeah, but he had gotten a lot better last time I saw him. He was even using my first name," she said, frowning slightly.

"Isn't it obvious, Steph?"

"He's jealous that Dick asked me to be Nightwing?" Some small part of her wanted that to be all it was; another, more dangerous part of her wanted it to be something more.

"No, his first love has come back into his life and she's an older, hot, mature woman and he doesn't know how to handle it," she said slyly.

Stephanie didn't know how to feel about this. On one hand, Nell was very fond of teasing all the members of the Batfamily. And they let her get away with it one too many times and now it wouldn't stop.

On the other, Damian had grown up. And he had grown up well. And despite the fact that she was nine years older than him … damn.

"Be real, Nell. He used your name. Is there something between you two?"

Nell gave her a slightly amused look. "No, trust me … Damian and I are not even remotely a possibility."

Both women fell quiet for a moment, sipping their coffees and lost in thought.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Nell finally broke the silence.

"What do you mean, do about it? He's like nine years younger than me, Nell! Isn't that … weird?"

The younger girl shrugged unhelpfully. "Isn't Barbara way older than Dick? It seems to be a trend with Robins and Batgirls… Anyway, I actually need to get home tonight. My mom picked up a night shift so I need to watch my sister."

Stephanie frowned again. "Is everything okay at home, Nell? You know if you just ask, B and the others will make sure things get taken care of. You're one of us," she said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I know, thank you, Stephanie," she said with a reassuring smile. "We're managing just fine. I'll see you later!"

And finally Stephanie was left on her own, to finish the patrol. For some reason, she was drawn towards the other parts of town that she knew very well were on Batman's route.

It didn't take her long to find the Dark Knight, or rather the son of the Dark Knight, since Bruce was mostly retired at this point. He had taken a bad injury apparently about a year ago and just wasn't as young as he used to be. Thus, Damian had stepped up while his father sat on the sidelines, still as difficult to please as ever, especially now in his age.

Tonight, she had arrived just in time it seemed as Damian was facing off with some of the Penguin's hires. Sometimes it amazed her that all the old villains were actually still in business. It was like they just didn't know what else to do with their lives.

Nightwing jumped into the fight, pulling out her escrima sticks and whacking the first goon she landed near.

"Get out of here, Nightwing!" she heard Damian growl and she was rather impressed with the deepness of his voice.

"I'm trying to help!" she replied, throwing a round house kick.

"Stephanie! Watch out!"

"Huh!?"

The bat hit hard on the back of her head, making her eyes water and her vision blur. The escrima sticks clattered to the ground. She stumbled across the rooftop of the abandoned building, wildly throwing punches and missing. The man kicked her and she fell.

And she happened to land on an old glass skylight.

One that completely shattered under the force of her falling weight.

_Oh, gravity …_

"Ow! Ahh! Fuck! Dammit! Owwww!"

She seemed to hit just about everything on the way down, bouncing off of ceiling beams and catwalks and pipes. Something may have snapped when she finally met the ground, which was thankfully covered in moderately cushioning sawdust. It still knocked the wind out of her.

Stars danced across her vision. She could still hear sounds of the fight as she closed her eyes.

"Stephanie? Can you hear me? Steph! Answer me, Brown!"

"No names in the field …" she gasped, squinting at the shadow hovering over her.

Damian growled and heaved her into his arms, easily carrying her out of the warehouse and to the car. Stephanie let her eyes close, her pounding head resting on his shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath again.

She didn't even realize she had dozed through the ride back to the Batcave until Damian was shaking her and calling her name.

"Brown, wake up! Stephanie!"

She blinked and slowly sat up on the cot in the medical bay.

Damian had already ridded himself of his cape and cowl and the top half of his uniform, left in just the leggings and a black tank. She swallowed nervously as she eyed the broadness of his shoulders.

"I need you to take off your costume. You have cuts all over from the broken glass."

"Trying to get me undressed again?" she teased weakly, pulling the top half of her costume over her head. When she threw it aside and met his eyes again, he had a strange look on his face.

Damian quickly busied himself with preparing the gauze and disinfectant to clean off all the small lacerations from the sharp pieces of glass piercing her uniform. "The rest too," he prompted, eyes just barely flickering to her again.

Stephanie swallowed a little nervously as she recalled the very tiny underwear she had for some reason chosen to wear under her suit tonight. It was bad enough to be just in her bra in front of him, especially when she remembered that he had a thing for…

_Focus, Steph! He's just trying to take care of your stupid injuries that you stupidly got because you stupidly couldn't handle yourself!_

She wiggled off the tights, revealing a violet colored thong.

When Damian looked over at her again, his eyes widened and he quickly cleared his throat before going to work on her cuts.

"That was stupid of you, Brown," he said darkly, concentrating on her back first and then her outer extremities, as though timid about getting too close to her body.

"You looked like you needed help," she grumbled, grimacing as the chemicals stung. "Ow! Is this necessary?"

"Yes," he replied curtly, now dabbing at her abdomen. He pressed some gauze bandages over the last of the scrapes, slowly rubbing out the creases in the tape. She didn't dare breathe as his hands lingered on her sides.

Then he quickly jumped away, going to another drawer and digging through it. He came back over and started shining a small penlight in her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked, blinking and trying to pull away.

He grabbed her chin to hold her still, setting down the flashlight and studying her eyes intently. "I'm checking for signs of a concussion. Does your head hurt? Do you feel nauseous or sleepy?"

"Yes, no, and no."

Damian was still staring at her. His blue eyes were so clear and so pretty, and so intently focused on her own.

"You could have been seriously injured, Stephanie," he said quietly.

Even his mouth was pretty to watch form words. She didn't really comprehend what he was saying to her. Somewhere, a little devil on her shoulder was reminding her that he'd just turned eighteen.

"Stephanie …"

She went for it.

Placing a hand on the back of his neck, Steph pulled him firmly to her lips. Damian made some sort of mumbled noise of surprise, muffled against her mouth. She didn't let go.

He started to respond, kissing her back with youthful enthusiasm. His hands went back her waist, moving over her hips and he stepped closer, standing in between her legs.

His tongue was definitely in her mouth now and she was starting to wonder how exactly he had learned his techniques because even perfect genetics couldn't make up for practice making out. And wow, was she barely able to focus as she ran her fingers through his dark hair. She felt more than heard the low growl from his throat as she pressed her body closer.

He was all tall, strong muscles under her hands and she craved more skin. She pulled away just long enough to tug his shirt off.

His lips moved to her neck, sucking harshly at the sensitive spots along her throat.

"Oh, Dami," she moaned.

He suddenly tensed up and pulled back to look at her, as though realizing what was going on.

She really had never seen Damian Wayne look so lost before.

"Stephanie, I …"

She was still breathing heavily and way too turned on at this point to be changing her mind. And if the way his pants were bulging into her leg was any indication, he was nearing that point as well.

"Do you want this?" Stephanie asked in a low voice.

Damian closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, obviously trying to focus. "I want you so bad, Stephanie Brown…"

It sent shivers right down to her lower abdomen. Almost overnight he had turned into this dashing and sexy young man, who was still in some ways her little Damian and she would always feel that affection for him. But at the moment, it was pure lustful attraction that filled her as he stood before her, very half naked, very handsome, and very much wanting her.

She took his bottom lip between her teeth, gently biting and letting go after a moment. "Then have me," she whispered.

Before she could fully comprehend that he had taken her advice, he was already climbing onto the bed, pushing her back and pressing their mouths together again. His hands reached around her for the clasp of her bra and she arched into him as he fumbled with it.

Stephanie couldn't help but laugh a little. Damian was almost exactly like every other male in the world who was still inexperienced with removing women's undergarments.

"Didn't any of your brothers ever teach you how to do this?" she asked amusedly, reaching around to unhook the clasps before pulling the apparel off.

He scowled and almost looked like he might do his little "tt" sound until she pulled away the fabric and his eyes were immediately fixated on her breasts.

"You can touch," she invited, smirking up at him.

Hesitantly, he reached out, cupping one in his hand, fondling and exploring. A thumb caressed her nipple making her draw in a breath quickly as the sensation jolted through her. He was slow and meticulous with his ministrations, glancing up at her to seek her approval.

"Do you … do like this?"

She nodded, and then pulled his face down to her chest. He seemed to get the idea; she let out a moan when he started sucking.

His other hand was traveling down her body, dipping below her tiny underwear to find her heat. She gasped again as he started stroking, already so wet for him.

Slowly, but surely, he was pulling her apart with just his hands and mouth all over her body. And holy fuck, he hadn't even taken off his pants yet and she was already just this close from coming into his hand. Had he done this before? She had no idea.

"Damian, oh, god, yesss! Damian! Like that!" Stephanie reached for his pants, trying to undo the front but her fingers kept groping and the moans kept falling from her lips, uncontrollable. "Please, I need you …"

"Stephanie…" His voice rumbled against her skin before he pulled away to help her remove his black leggings. She whined a little at the lack of touch until he finally shimmied off the tights and was kneeling between her legs.

Perfect genetics indeed.

She was practically aching with need, gasping a little when he leaned over her again and brushed her leg. He was hesitant still, eyes searching her face, weary for any sign of disapproval.

Smiling softly, Stephanie pulled him into a sweet, reassuring kiss then slowly helped guide him in. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking it all in, adjusting to the new fullness before he started thrusting. He seemed to be pacing himself, driving her crazy with the slow rhythm.

"Oh! _Damian!_ Oh! Go faster!"

He growled out her name in reply as he sped up, his hot mouth traveling all over her skin. The muscles of his back flexed under her gripping fingers. And wow was she really wondering how much Damian had done this before because his stamina was fucking amazing so far and he gave a little hip jerk at the end that hit her just at the right spot and he was sucking on that spot in the crook of her neck that made her moan.

"OHH!" She was wound up so impossibly tight, writhing and keening as she yearned for just a little more to send her over. The cot beneath them squeaked noisily as they fucked.

"Damian! OHH!"

Her cry echoed in the cavernous room as she finally found release and he quickly joined her, calling out her name one more time before giving out. The pleasure waved through her, relaxing and blissfully flooding her body.

They settled close on the small bed, catching their breath. Stephanie smiled over at him, tenderly kissing his shoulder and placing a hand on his chest. He snatched up her hand, kissing the back of it before lacing their fingers together.

"Steph, I …"

"Yes?"

"I really want to do that again," Damian admitted, looking sheepish. She even thought she detected a hint of a blush across his tanned cheeks.

With a smirk, Stephanie climbed on top of him, chest to chest and knees straddling his waist. "Me too," she said before kissing him soundly.

* * *

She woke up smiling, not yet opening her eyes and just reveling in the warmth of his chest at her back and his arm around her waist. Behind her, Damian was still breathing evenly, having been thoroughly worn out. They fell asleep down in the cave, which was actually pretty chilly when you weren't busy making your own heat and only covered in a flimsy, shared bed sheet.

Stephanie shivered a little, turning slightly into the warm body next to her.

And then she wondered what exactly woke her up because they were definitely not above ground and her internal sleep clock had been so screwed up since she started night work again. Who knew what time it was? They really ought to get up and get dressed before someone found them.

Finally, she opened her eyes and yelped in surprise to see a tall, menacing figure standing over them. She felt Damian stir behind her.

Bruce had an unreadable expression on his face and his arms were folded across his chest. For several minutes he stared at the pair of them. Stephanie barely dared to breathe; thankful the sheet had at least been pulled up to her shoulders.

"Was there an injury last night?"

There was absolutely nothing teasing in his tone.

_Well, shit …_

To Be Continued …


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Hey, there will most likely be just one or so more parts to this! Cheers!

* * *

"Stephanie? You're here pretty early, especially after the late night you had," said Barbara Gordon-Grayson, opening the door for the younger woman.

Stephanie blanched at her words. _How does she know already?!_

"Is something wrong?"

"Nope."

Of course she doesn't know. It only just happened.

She followed Barbara into the kitchen where breakfast was on the table and a fresh pot of coffee was brewing. It seemed so light and warm in their kitchen, comforting.

"Cheesecake for breakfast?"

"You can criticize my food choices after you've been pregnant," said the redhead dryly.

Stephanie choked on air as she recalled that they definitely had not used a condom last night. _Oh, please, god, let my birth control not fail …_

"You sure you're alright? Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah, fine. And aren't you not allowed caffeine?"

"It's decaf." Barbara pulled a slightly disgusted face. "I keep hoping for some sort of placebo effect but it's just a sad cup of decaf coffee that no one really wants."

"I'll pick up something later," said Stephanie distractedly, running a hand through her hair.

At the table, Barbara settled in to her cheesecake (she had sweet talked her husband into stopping at the Cheesecake Factory last night) and asked, "So how was patrol last night?"

"Good. Is Dick around?"

"He's still sleeping. He had a late night. Why, did you want to talk to him?"

"No!"

"Stephanie, what's the matter?"

It was perfectly timed; Barbara was just taking a drink of her icky decaf coffee when Stephanie blurted it out.

"I slept with Damian!"

"Pfffftt! What?" Barbara coughed, completely ignoring the fact that her key lime had been thoroughly sprayed with coffee. "Run that by me again?"

"I slept with Damian. Last night, in the infirmary in the cave. After he bandaged me up because I fell through a glass skylight," Stephanie elaborated.

"Uh … well … when you say slept …?" It was like her brain was completely incapably of fully appreciating what the fuck Steph was telling her. Must be the damn coffee.

"I mean sex. I had sex with Damian Wayne in the Batcave," she said, finally sitting down and putting her face into her hands.

"Uh, was it good?" Barbara asked blankly.

"Is that all you can say?!"

"I'm kind of still in shock here!"

"Arrgghhh! Yes. It was very good."

"I just … what's Bruce going to say …"

"Not much."

"What do you mean?"

Stephanie sighed. "He found us. He just said get dressed and then he left. I left as soon as I could," she said wearily. Luckily, the cave was always stocked with extra clean workout clothing so she had stolen sweats and hopped on the first bike she came across that was unmarked, high tailing it over here.

"You just left?"

"Hey now, he's not my dad or my boss, for that matter. I don't have to sit around and take judgment for sleeping with his son," Stephanie pointed out snappishly.

"Calm down. No one is judging anyone," said Barbara firmly. She was starting to get her brain functions back, slowly climbing over the initial shock. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Do I have to do anything?"

"Eventually. This is kind of a big deal, Steph. Was it his first time?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? It wasn't like his hymen broke."

Barbara sighed. "Well how do you feel about him?"

"I don't know! He's Damian. I feel like I always have and then on top of that is the fact that he grew up and got really attractive," she grumbled. "But's he's just still so … Damian."

"Sometimes you think he's still that twelve year old kid who won't stop staring at your boobs?"

"Yeah."

* * *

She was eating cheese nachos (or something approximating them since it was just mostly cheese product melted onto stale chips) and drinking a diet zesti as she flipped through channels, trying to distract herself. It wasn't even a zesti, it was a store bought brand that was three dollars cheaper. Even with Dick and Barbara offering to help her, she was still in the mindset of a poor starving grad student. At least this meal was a step up from ramen noodles.

Stephanie yawned, checking her watch again. It was late afternoon. She had spent most of the morning with Barbara but was no closer to working out her feelings or what she wanted to do next. And the pregnant woman was getting steadily more frustrated with her indecisiveness.

A knock on the door startled her and she had a bad feeling about who it might be. Her stomach turned (although it was probably the nachos) and her heart was pounding as she got up from the couch. She looked down at herself, pulling a face; great, she was wearing pajamas in the middle of the day. At least she had showered when she got home earlier.

Running a hand through her hair, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Damian was standing on her doorstep, looking somewhat sheepish and holding a black bag in one hand.

"Uh, come in," said Stephanie, standing back.

They stood in her living room, eyes shyly flickering to each other and away again.

"You, uh, left a few things this morning." He held up the bag to her and she felt her cheeks go red.

Yes, she had indeed left a few things. Like pieces of her costume. And her underwear. Stephanie took the bag and tossed it aside without even looking in it.

"My father says to remind you that the infirmary is for medical services only," he said, a faint blush appearing across his face.

"Technically, you were patching me up," she pointed out.

The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly and then he suddenly frowned in concern. "Are you feeling okay? You fell through a roof."

"I'm fine, Damian."

He stepped closer, putting a hand to her cheek.

"I hope you didn't get in too much trouble." It came out a lot flirtier than she intended.

The small smirk was back and it was just so Damian that it made her heart leap a little.

"Not at all."

* * *

They ended up in her bed, much preferable to the squeaky old hospital cot in the cave. So much for talking about their feelings.

She was kneeling and he was behind her, holding her torso to his chest. His hands were splayed all over her front, cupping her breasts and reaching between her legs; his lips latched onto her neck. She reached over her shoulder, fingers clasping his hair.

Every thrust was close and tight and hitting in all the right places. And fuck, where did he learn all this. It was driving her crazy in the best way possible. The moans falling from her lips were getting louder and more frequent as he went faster.

"Oh! Damian! Oohh! More! Yes!"

Her voice went even higher and she cried out as all the tension released, flooding through her. He kept moving, thrusting even faster now. And she didn't know what way was what; she just kept coming, barely registering that she was leaning over on her hands while he gripped her hips. She couldn't see or think; it was just crashing waves of pleasure, making her high and dizzy. Until finally, with another hard thrust, he came and she felt it inside of her, with another small jolt.

She distantly heard him grunting her name. Her muscles were still spasming, her arms shaking weakly until she allowed herself to rest.

He collapsed next to her, panting heavily, eyes shut tight.

Stephanie watched him fondly as he settled. A part of her was still musing over the fact that she had Damian Wayne in her bed, spent from satisfying her so thoroughly.

Wasn't it just yesterday that he was that awkward fourteen year old, blushing furiously as they waltzed around the room at Dick and Barbara's wedding reception? Despite his embarrassment, he had been a very fine dancer, holding her close and just barely beginning to tower over her in height.

And now he was this gorgeous young man, looking at her sweetly, no, _adoringly_. His clear blue eyes swept all along her body; instead of feeling self-conscious, she felt wanted.

"What are you thinking?"

"Just remembering you."

He frowned slightly. "You don't still see me as a child, do you? Not after this …"

"Damian," she said softly, moving closer and resting a hand on his broad chest. "You can claim credit for just giving me one of the most intense orgasms I've ever had. I do not see you as a child, I assure you."

The smug smirk was just so typically Damian; she reached up to kiss it away from his lips. His arms went around her waist to pull her closer.

"Hmmm…" When she pulled away, she caught him glancing over his shoulder at the alarm clock. "Going out tonight?"

"Yeah, I, uh, I wasn't really supposed to stay this long," he admitted.

"Why don't you just go to sleep for a bit and I'll set the alarm," she decided, climbing over him to reach the bedside table. His hand moved to her back, keeping her in place; when she glanced down at him, his eyes were definitely not on hers.

She settled back on top of him when she was done.

"Just a little nap, so you aren't too tired for patrol," she murmured as he drew her closer.

"Right … not too tired …" he muttered between kisses.

Neither had actually gotten any sleeping done by the time the alarm went off.

Damian wildly reached over to turn off the alarm. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled, squeezing her thigh that was hitched over his hip. It was so fucking hot; she pulled him back down to her.

* * *

_He should have been back by now. _

Bruce frowned out the window of his study as he recalled the very few words he'd shared earlier with his son. He honestly had no idea what to say. Damian was eighteen. But it wasn't just any kid; this was _Damian_.

"Alright, Bruce, this better be a real emergency. You know I have a pregnant wife at home."

Bruce turned to see his eldest son barge into the study, looking somewhat disgruntled and tired. They were all quickly learning that they seriously took Oracle for granted now that Dick was substituting for her.

"It's about Damian."

Dick sighed and settled in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the desk. "I have a feeling you won't stop asking me for parenting advice until Damian is in his thirties. I'd also like to point out that my actual first kid isn't even born yet."

"I found him in bed with a woman this morning."

Whatever he had been expecting, that was far from it. He jaw dropped and Bruce nodded solemnly. Then he started laughing.

"That's what you're freaking out about? Damian having sex?"

"Dick, this is serious."

"Bruce, we gave him the talk years ago. Remember? It was awkward for everyone involved."

"That's not what I'm concerned about."

"Then what? And who was he with?"

Bruce looked away again before finally saying, "Stephanie."

"Oh … that's probably why she was over this morning."

"What did she say?" he asked sharply.

"I don't know. She was talking to Barbara. I was asleep."

Dick studied him, frowning at the conclusions he was starting to draw from his adoptive father's distress.

"So, what? You're upset that it was Stephanie Brown who stole poor Damian's innocence?" Dick asked wryly. Lack of sleep plus a grumpy, pregnant wife was rubbing off on him and he really wasn't in the mood to put up with Bruce's judgmental temperaments. "Was he even a virgin?"

Bruce was silent, the crease in his forehead deepening slightly.

"You don't know. Wow, really? Is that what it is? You didn't call it? Which is kind of a surprise, really. I mean, it was pretty obvious what Damian's type was."

"What does that mean?"

"He's always photographed with curvy blondes at parties when he's playing up the rich Wayne boy," Dick pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"When they were younger I couldn't help but notice the … parallels to you and Barbara …"

Dick couldn't help but smile fondly at the memories. They were sweet recollections, but it was nothing compared to the present.

"Why did you choose Stephanie to be Nightwing?"

"So I could take over as Oracle so Babs could relax for the rest of the pregnancy."

"No, Dick, why her?"

"She's the logical choice. She has experience. We know she already works well with the rest of the team. And everyone else was busy," Dick elaborated. "Also so she could reunite with Damian and make you uncomfortable about it."

Bruce glared at the apparent sarcasm.

"You never gave her much of a chance, you know."

"I made her Robin. And Batgirl."

"Bruce, you and I both know that Batgirl was never yours to give out."

He turned to the window again. "He should have been back by now."

"Where is he?"

"At her house."

Dick snorted with laughter. "Yeah, he's definitely not going to be back for a while." He stood up and stretched. "Listen, Bruce, this is good news. It means we succeeded."

The older man raised an eyebrow.

"We managed to fully socialize Damian from an emotionally stunted ten year old assassin into an average teenage boy, following his heart. Or, you know, something besides his brain at the moment," Dick said with a somewhat proud smile.

"Do you think he's in love with her?"

"Sure, anything is possible. I'm leaving now. Actually, I should probably see if Alfred has any cookies I can take home for Babs. Then I'm leaving. Try not to be too hard on Damian. You know he gets embarrassed still about having feelings," Dick advised as he backed out of the study. "And be nice to Steph too. She is wearing my symbol out there, you know."

Bruce grunted and turned back to the window, where the sky was darkening and he could just see two headlights at the end of the long driveway to the Manor. Damian had returned.

* * *

Damian took his time kissing her goodbye at the door.

Stephanie was more than happy to keep him there as long as he kept kissing her like that, holding her tightly. Finally he pulled away, loosening his arms around her waist.

"So I'll see you out tonight?"

"Most likely."

His hands left her hips, fiddled slightly with the collar of his shirt as he cleared his throat again.

"I suppose at some point we'll need to actually talk about this," Stephanie commented lazily, swinging the end of the tie on her bathrobe.

"Right. Talk."

"Not right now. We both have world saving to do tonight, remember? Now run along."

"Good evening, Stephanie."

His father was waiting for him in the study, conveniently in the way of the most direct route to the Batcave. He really should have thought of this and taken Alfred's elevator from the kitchen.

"Father."

"Damian."

Bruce was seated in his desk regarding his son, taking in the messy hair and untucked shirt. Damian wasn't normally a sloppy dresser.

"I was just going to get ready for patrol. Could you have Alfred bring me dinner?"

"Do you still want to be Batman?" Bruce asked suddenly.

Damian's eyes widened slightly in panic. Was he going to take it away, his only dream in life, just over this thing with Stephanie? Why couldn't he have both? Hadn't Dick always told him that just because he was Bruce's son didn't mean he had to be Bruce? That he could love his father and his family but still build his own future?

"Yes, of course I do, Father."

"Because if you aren't a hundred percent focused-"

"I'm focused!"

"Having a relationship while doing this job is not easy."

"I'm not going to wait until I'm your age to let myself be happy!"

It kind of slipped out and neither of them was quite sure what to make of what it really meant. They stared at each other for a little longer.

"I have to go," Damian finally muttered, turning to the old grandfather clock and disappearing down the hidden staircase behind it.

"Bruce? Sweetheart?" a soft voice said from the doorway after knocking.

The tall, graceful woman glided over to the desk, perching on the edge and taking his hand. She smiled, almost amusedly, down at him.

He kissed the back of her hand.

"Diana …"

_To Be Continued_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Better late than never, right? So I guess this doesn't completely wrap it up but this is as far as the muse would go for now.

* * *

"They have to grow up sometime, you know," said Diana softly.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at her.

"Your last bird is leaving the nest."

"Damian still lives here. I don't think he plans on leaving. The cave is here," said Bruce. And he didn't really want his son to leave. They lived in a mansion; it was definitely big enough for all of them.

"I meant figuratively. Your baby is growing up and falling in love. You've never done well with change," she observed thoughtfully.

"Of course I have."

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow; then she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

"Don't worry, Bruce. Soon Barbara will have her baby, Tim and Tam will start having kids, and the house will be full of children again," she told him, standing up and heading for the door. Diana was the only one who would ever call him on it, on how he actually liked kids.

They had talked about it before. _The_ subject. Kids. But Diana had grown to have such a unique connection with ones he already had, they decided not to try. The family he had was finally enough and he was at peace, mostly.

She paused at the doorway and said, "Don't wait up too late tonight, love."

"Why? Going to kick me out of bed if I wake you up again?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. For a princess, she could be very undiplomatic when her sleep was rudely interrupted.

"Yes. But I was also going to say that it's highly unlikely Damian will be home tonight," she said with a smirk.

* * *

"Definitely nicer than my digs," Stephanie commented, peering around the penthouse apartment.

They had met up later on in the night near the WE building, so Damian had invited her inside. He stood a bit awkwardly by the sliding glass door that went out to the patio on the roof, watching her examine the spacious flat.

"It's only really used these days for entertaining but there's also a separate elevator to the bunker," Damian explained.

"Right. I remember the bunker."

She turned around to look at him and felt the awkwardness descend. And the sexual tension.

_Damn, he is filling the hell out of that costume…_

Was this how it was going to be? Were they just going to deal with whatever this was by fucking and then not dealing with it? Part of her was actually a little okay with the idea. The part that sinfully recalled that afternoon in her apartment.

"Damian …"

"Something to drink?" he asked, wandering over to the bar. It was straight from the book stalling.

"Do you even drink?" Stephanie couldn't help but ask.

"Not often."

"I don't want anything," she decided, settling on one of the fine leather couches. "Come sit down." She patted the spot next to her, smiling slightly at him.

Both had been rid of masks upon stepping inside the apartment. She was glad that she could see his eyes, watch as they flickered down her body in an attempt to be sneaky about it. Damian sat down, leaning over to kiss her.

It was nice, not rushed; just his mouth gently moving against hers, a hand cupping her cheek. Stephanie reluctantly pulled away first.

What was she supposed to say? What did she even want from him? All she knew was that she didn't want them to decide this was a mistake. She didn't want him to back out. But all of her doubts kept plaguing the back of her mind, making her nervous.

"Stephanie, I'm glad you came back," Damian said earnestly.

"I never really went far, you know. I didn't even leave the city, until this year of course."

"You wouldn't have taken me seriously." He was looking down, avoiding her eye.

She knew he was right. If fourteen year old Damian Wayne had showed up on her doorstep with the same intentions, she would have laughed him off and playfully told him she was too old for him. Stephanie hesitated then asked quietly, "Can I take you seriously now?"

It was as close as she dared to get to the big question about feelings.

"Let me take you out this weekend," he said suddenly, looking up at her again.

She raised her eyebrows. "Trying to get into my pants again?"

Damian smirked. "Friday. I will pick you up at nineteen hundred."

"Why can't you say seven o'clock like a normal person?"

"Seven. Dress nicely."

"You do realize that means you'll be in public with me. People will see you with an older woman."

"I am aware." He was leaning closer again.

She put two fingers to his lips to stop him. "While I would love the idea of you ravishing me on this couch after a long night of patrol, I'm still running on fumes, especially after our little afternoon delight from earlier. Shall we just end the night on a high note?"

Damian raised an eyebrow at her and said, "Getting you naked again would be a high note."

"Sleep, Damian. I can tell you need it too."

He smiled slightly and then, in one fluid move, he scooped her up into his arms and stood up. "We can sleep here," he said, carrying her down the hallway to one of the bedrooms.

"Perfect. I'm not going to wake up to Bruce finding us again, am I?" she asked as he set her on the bed.

"No, he rarely even comes into the office anymore." He sat next to her, taking off his boots, then pulling the top half of his costume off.

She couldn't contain the soft sigh at the sight of his bare chest and he looked up with a smirk. His body was so beautiful and chiseled and dear god, why the hell did he want her?

"You sure you just want to sleep?" he asked, looking entirely too smug. Stupid ass had always known how damn good looking he was.

"Brat," she muttered, kicking off her own shoes and depositing loose pieces of her costume on the floor until she was undressed (this time in thankfully not ridiculously tiny underwear).

"Stephanie…"

She really liked the way her name rumbled through his soft, growling voice.

* * *

She knew she had fallen asleep in his arms, but she definitely woke up drooling on her own pillow. They had forgotten to shut the blinds last night and the sunlight was right in her eyes. Stephanie yawned and looked over at Damian. A surge of affection rushed through her as she looked at his adorable, sleepy face.

She leaned over and started peppering his face with light kisses. It only took a few for him to stir, his eyebrow furrowing slightly in confusion.

"Titus, stop," he muttered.

"Well, then," she commented, raising an eyebrow. Nothing like your sort of new boyfriend calling you by his dog's name in the morning.

His eyes opened immediately at the sound of her voice. "Stephanie. Sorry. I, uh, didn't mean…"

She continued to look at him, disapprovingly.

"Sorry, I forgot we were here," Damian insisted.

"Hmm, I might let you make it up to me…"

She was rolled onto her back as he moved on top of her.

"Good morning," he said with a little smirk that drew her attention to his lips. Lips that he had better be planning on putting all over her body very soon.

"Good _morning_…" She trailed off when he started kissing her neck and down to her collar bone. His hands were already reaching around her back to unclasp her bra and toss the offending garment aside.

He was still in his pants from the night before but they were so form fitting, they didn't conceal the strong muscles of his thighs or the growing hardness that pressed against her leg. Her hands roamed his warm skin, feeling the tight, flexing muscles, as he paid attention to her breasts.

"Oh, Damian …" she moaned, arching her back slightly.

His fingers found the waistband of her underwear, tugging them down sharply. She was already getting so wet for him, each of his caresses driving her crazy. She let out a small gasp when his fingers found her clit, pressing lightly. He was watching her intently, taking in every flicker of her expression his attentions evoked.

She opened her eyes and met his; he looked at her for a second, then slowly leaned closer and took a hesitant lick at her core.

"Ohhh … _Damian!_"

Encouraged by her reaction, his tongue darted out again, and then again. And then his mouth was all over her and her fingers knotted in his hair to keep him in place. His lips closed over her clit, sucking and making her cry out.

"Stephanie …" The vibrations of his voice reverberated through her, tingling up her spine. "You taste incredible…"

He continued to eat her out, driving her almost to edge and teasingly pulling back once he got the hang of it. She was moaning and begging, squirming in his grasp, until finally he let her come. She was on a cloud, letting the pleasure rush through her with a loud cry of his name.

When she finally opened her eyes, he was leaning over her again, watching her with that same intently interested look.

"I … I like watching when you … it's so … you just …"

Rarely was Damian Wayne so inarticulate.

"When I come. You like making me come and watching me enjoy it," she said, catching her breath.

He nodded fervently.

She pulled him in for a kiss, murmuring, "I like it too…" Palming him through his tight pants, she added, "Want me to take care of this?"

"Actually," he replied between kisses, "I was thinking we should take a shower…"

"Even better idea …"

The shower was big enough to have a small party in; before the glass had even completely fogged up, he had her up against the wall, mouths and hips joined.

* * *

Damian strode into the office confidently, barely tossing his father's personal assistant a second glance. He had just gotten back from taking Stephanie home. The bunker had a separate exit, away from the main part of the building, so they could leave unseen.

"Father, I need to ask you something," he began.

Bruce looked up from his desk, not too surprised that his son had just walked in without knocking but slightly annoyed all the same.

"Yes, Damian?"

They had not spoken since the other night and while it hadn't quite been a fight, there were words and neither was quite sure how to proceed.

After several tense moments of silence, Bruce finally spoke again.

"What do you need son?"

Damian cleared his throat. "I am taking Stephanie out tomorrow night. On a … a date …" he announced, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "And you need somewhere to take her?" he guessed.

The younger man relaxed visibly. He could recall Dick and Tim and even sometimes Jason going to his father for tickets to all the various events and parties Bruce Wayne was invited to. No one could ever say that the ladies who got a date with one of the Wayne boys weren't treated to a very nice night (although at this point, it was mostly just Barbara and Tam collecting those benefits).

"Yes, and dinner reservations as well."

Bruce pressed the intercom on his desk, saying, "Janet, can you bring me the social calendar?"

"Right away, Mr. Wayne."

The assistant appeared just moments later, planner in hand. She was older than the last secretary but kind and efficient. "What days are you looking for, Mr. Wayne?"

"Tomorrow night. My son will need tickets and dinner reservations, please."

Janet turned to Damian with a smile. "Of course. What is your date interested in, Mr. Wayne? I have scheduled here a film premiere, art gallery, opera, ballet? Tomorrow is opening night of Swan Lake at the Gotham City Ballet. Closing night of Carmen. Opening of a new exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art…"

He froze, suddenly panicking. What did Stephanie like? He didn't know what she wanted to go see. What would impress her the most? He knew she liked movies, but a film premiere would include posing for the press and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. And he knew that she had spent the last several months in Egypt, working on her doctorate in anthropology. Would she like an art gallery? He looked anxiously at his father.

"The ballet. My normal box seats will do. And make them a reservation at Nicola's," Bruce decided, wisely hiding his amusement at his son's panic.

"Yes, that … that will be satisfactory," Damian said with a short nod. "Thank you."

"I'll have the tickets ready for you tomorrow morning, Mr. Wayne," she said with another comforting smile before leaving the office.

There was another awkward silence before Damian muttered, "Thank you, Father." He started turning for the door.

"Damian."

"Yes, Father?"

_You're my son and I love you and I want you to be happy. And of course I approve of Stephanie. I've always known what she meant to you. She's always been worthy. You're just growing up so fast. Just yesterday you were Robin and I had to take away your sword after getting into a fight with Tim again …_

Diana would have told him to say what he really felt. And while he was getting better at expressing himself …

"Enjoy your date tomorrow night," said Bruce. "Perhaps you should call Dick. He'll want to know."

_He's better at this than I am._

"I will, thank you."

He left the office without another word.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: Finally came up with a way to continue this... Anyway, cheers! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

* * *

"So how was the big date last night?" Barbara asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

Stephanie tiredly trudged after her and collapsed into a chair.

"It was … a disaster, actually."

Barbara looked over quickly, almost dropping the plate of pastries in surprise.

"A disaster? What happened?" she asked, pouring them both orange juice and settling across from her.

Stephanie sighed. "Well first he took me to dinner at this place called Nicolas."

"Oh, I've been there. It's really good."

"It's also really fancy. And I'm not like you guys. I don't do fancy. I spent the last six months sleeping in tents and digging through dirt," she pointed out, selecting a cinnamon roll from the plate. "Anyway, I had no idea what to order and nothing on the menu explained anything so I just felt all stupid and embarrassed for not knowing what to get…"

"Stephanie, one bad dinner doesn't make a bad date," said Barbara fairly.

"That wasn't the worst. It was just so awkward! I don't know how to talk to Damian Wayne, the rich socialite. And he barely said anything either!"

"Okay, so maybe it wasn't the best setting, but I'm sure he was nervous and wanted to impress you. And it's not like you could talk about evening work in that setting."

"It gets worse. Did you know that Damian recently broke up with a supermodel?"

"Uh, no …"

"Yeah, well neither did she and she was there up at the bar until she caught sight of her beau offering some blonde tart a piece of tiramisu," she said, aggressively taking a bite of the roll.

"A supermodel? I know he's been seen with plenty of women but I don't think any of them were serious. Or supermodels…" Barbara said.

"She migh' as well bin," Stephanie said thickly, mouth full of cinnamon roll. She swallowed and added bitterly, "Tall and tan and blonde and big boobed. Ugh. And she was very upset that Dami hadn't called her and then dared to show up with me. It was awful."

"Oh, Stephanie, I'm sorry. What did he say about it?"

"Not much. He just asked her to leave, apologized for the interruption, then went back to dessert like it was no big deal. So I asked him, 'Damian, are you seeing that girl?' and he just said no, he'd just danced with her at a party once and he couldn't even remember her name then he said something about to keep suspicion off him."

"Well, it makes sense," said Barbara fairly.

Stephanie frowned at her.

"I mean it makes sense that he would think that was a good idea for him to act that way too. You know how he looks up to Bruce."

Stephanie sighed. "I've just been so out of touch with this whole family. I don't think I know what I'm getting myself into anymore."

"What happened next?"

"The Gotham Ballet, opening night of Swan Lake."

Barbara smiled. "I love when they do that one. It was always my favorite."

She felt bad for admitting it, knowing that Barbara used to be a ballerina, but Stephanie reluctantly said, "Yeah, it wasn't really my thing. It was boring. I fell asleep on his shoulder."

"Stephanie!"

"Sorry! I tried! But that isn't even the worst part!"

"Worst part of what?" Dick had finally waltzed into the kitchen, still in pajamas and scruffy faced. He frowned slightly at the pair of them then guessed, "Seeing as you're here instead of having breakfast with my little brother, I take it the date didn't go well?"

"I'm not starting over from the beginning," said Stephanie flatly.

"Fair enough. Ooh, are those cinnamon rolls?"

"Shush, Dick," Barbara told him as he sat down and took a bite of one.

"Sorry, Sweethear'. And good morning," he added, planting a sticky kiss on her cheek. The redhead reluctantly smiled fondly at him, wiping the frosting off her face.

"If you two are done …" Stephanie muttered, rolling her eyes. They were disgustingly adorable in front of her and her problems.

"Go on, Stephanie. So you didn't care for the ballet," said Barbara.

"Well, intermission came along so I left to use the ladies room and when I get back, Damian is standing in the hallway with all the other rich people with box seats, surrounded by three other girls, all giggling and touching his arm and ughh. He didn't do anything about it so I just went inside and sat down again and waited for the rest of the show to start. And basically everything kind of sucked."

Barbara and Dick glanced at each other as she finished the story.

"Listen, Stephanie, the thing is about those society people-"

"Richard, don't you dare try to excuse that boy's appalling behavior," Barbara cut in swiftly.

"I wasn't! But you see, ever since he started being Batman, he's been trying to take on a similar persona to what Bruce did, using his status as a billionaire's heir to mask anyone suspecting him. So he's been kind of running in a lot those socialite circles recently. But I know he's not serious about any of them," Dick elaborated.

"Well obviously he didn't make that very clear to Stephanie."

"It's been all over the tabloids, Babs. How much clearer can you get?"

"She's been out of the country for the past six months!"

"She's also right here," Stephanie interjected dryly, selecting a second cinnamon roll to devour.

"Look, Steph, I still get flirted with when we're at Bruce's parties," Dick said off handedly.

Stephanie looked at Barbara and said, "And I suppose you're going to tell me you had some sort of epiphany and it doesn't bother you anymore?"

"No, it still bothers the hell out of me. And every time I'm just this much closer to tattooing 'Property of Barbara Gordon' across his ass," she said dryly.

"Honey, I keep telling you that wouldn't work. No one else would see it but you," he pointed out.

"Filed under: things I didn't need to hear," said Stephanie, shaking her head.

"Do you want me to talk to Damian for you?" Dick asked kindly. "He probably doesn't realize exactly what went wrong. Boys can be stupid when we're in love."

Stephanie raised an eyebrow, mouth too full of cinnamon roll to reply right away. Trust Dick to be the one to start throwing around the L word in someone else's relationship.

"No, Sweetie, actually, I need you to scan all the gossip sites for any possible pictures of them from last night. Remember, I showed you that algorithm last week for searching for pictures?" Barbara said. "And make sure they disappear."

"Yeah, no problem. I can do that," he said, standing up and grabbing another roll and a glass of juice before leaving.

"And don't you dare make a sticky mess all over my keyboard!" she called after him.

Stephanie sighed. "I shouldn't have slept with him in the first place."

"Do you mean that?"

"… Not really. I don't actually regret that part. But it did start a huge mess of things."

They fell silent, Stephanie licking the frosting off her fingers and Barbara leaning back with a hand on her growing abdomen, a far off look on her face.

"Stephanie, I'm sorry things aren't working out the way they should."

The blonde sighed again. "I've had bad dates before, Barbara. With guys who were losers who I thought actually liked me and I learned pretty quickly to default to the mindset that they probably don't. I don't think I've had a decent relationship since I was a teenager. But this …"

"It was supposed to be different," she finished for her.

"Yeah, I fell for it again. The blue eyes and the broad shoulders … he didn't even kiss me goodnight…" There was a lump in her throat that she attempted to wash down with more orange juice.

"For what it's worth, Damian has really matured in the four years you've been gone."

"Yes, I'm very well aware of that," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I mean emotionally. But he still has things to learn and I don't recall a Stephanie Brown that let him get away shit when he was a kid."

"Why do I always have to fix things?"

"Because sometimes, men just screw things up," said Barbara wisely.

There was a pause and then Dick was calling from the other room, "Honey, can you come here for a second?"

"Excellent timing as always," she said, smiling fondly.

"You two are gross," Stephanie observed.

"Well then I hope one day you and Damian are just gross. Now go tell him what you expect from him. Not a half-assed 'I got these tickets from Bruce' kind of date, something real," the older woman declared, wheeling away from the table and heading for the doorway.

"But-"

"Stephanie, since when do you give up? Exactly, you don't, you never have. You always make me proud."

Now that lump in her throat was suddenly accompanied with watery eyes. Damn. Nightwing isn't supposed to cry.

"Babs!"

"Coming! Now get going, Steph!"

* * *

She had been feeling so pumped and empowered after Barbara's pep talk. But as she neared the Manor, her stomach was starting to turn and she suspected it wasn't just the winding roads out of the city.

_Alright Brown, you can do this. You're going to march in there, sit that boy down and tell him what's what. And you are not going to be distracted, dammit!_

Before Stephanie even had a chance to ring the doorbell and run, Alfred was opening the door and inviting her inside.

"Miss Stephanie. What can I do for you?"

"Hey, Alfred. Uh, is Damian home?" She felt her cheeks go red.

"Master Damian is downstairs training, I believe."

"Right, well, maybe I shouldn't interrupt," she said quickly, turning back towards the door.

The butler slid in front of her, blocking the way.

"I'm not getting out of this, am I."

"Miss Barbara phoned ahead and said to expect you. If you need anything, I will be vacuuming in the East Wing," he said, now guiding her to the study and the entrance to the Cave.

She found him in one of the training rooms, practicing with a wooden sword, smoothly going through the steps of a kata. He was concentrating hard; she could see the faint glisten of sweat on his forehead and on his back (he was way too shirtless for her comfort). Step, swing, lunge, sweep, turn. It was mesmerizing to just watch him move, watch how his perfect body performed each part effortlessly.

Stephanie closed her eyes, attempting to get to her bearings. No distractions.

She found another practice sword and stepped onto the mat. She was almost five feet away from him when he suddenly whirled around, swinging at her. On instinct, she met his swing, dodging out of the way as the sticks clanged together.

"Stephanie? What are you doing here?" Damian asked, bewildered.

"Apparently, I'm sword fighting," she answered dryly, regaining her footing and holding up the wooden sword.

He stared at her curiously for a few seconds before getting back into a fighting stance and nodding slightly.

She lunged, swinging hard. He easily deflected and moved out of the way.

"Too obvious, Brown!" His voice had regained a bit of its sneer.

She gritted her teeth in frustration, getting back into position and trying to recall the tiny bit of stick fighting she had ever learned. She attacked again.

He was easily parrying and deflecting, sometimes feeding back a few swings or thrusts for her to dodge. But she could tell he was just toying, that she wasn't even having an effect on him.

And then suddenly he was pressing in harder and faster. And she didn't realize she was sweating until it was running in her eyes and making her hand feel slippery on the handle. Her knuckles were white as she tightened her grip.

He pressed the advantage, getting into her space at every turn. She tried to defend aggressively, smartly, but everything she'd learned about a sword was from the young man in front of her. For just a second, it was the snotty little thirteen year old smirking as he successfully disarmed her, twisting her elbow and making her spin around.

He was behind her now and she didn't know how that had happened, with his arms around her at the neck at waist. Breathing heavily in her ear, he had her trapped.

"Brown?" he growled and it made her shiver involuntarily.

"Damian…" She grasped the arm about her neck, turning her head slightly towards him.

They paused; she stopped struggling. His breath was hot on her neck; the hand on her stomach practically burning through her shirt.

"Stephanie." His lips brushed her ear as he spoke. The sword clattered to the floor.

His body was so solid and warm, pressed against her back. She couldn't think. She wanted to turn around and … and … do something …

"Ohh…" His mouth had touched her skin, right under her earlobe, sending jolts of electricity through her body. On instinct, her hips jutted out, pressing her ass to his pelvis.

_Oh._

She wasn't the only one suddenly insanely turned on at the moment.

He was definitely sucking harshly on her neck, sure to leave a mark later. And the arm around her neck had lowered and his hand was now at her breast. He squeezed, eliciting a small gasp from her. The other hand slipped into the waistband of her jeans, impossibly hot on the skin of her hip.

"Steph …"

The growl of her name rumbled through his broad chest. She wanted nothing more than for him to take her right there on the training room floor, ached for him after so many days absence.

So many days … like last night …

Stephanie blinked, suddenly remembering the reason why she was here in the first place. Rougher than probably necessary, she pulled herself from his embrace.

"We need to talk about last night."

His mouth was slightly open in confusion and she resisted the temptation to stare at his lips. Then the corner of his mouth quirked up in comprehension.

"Stephanie, it's okay."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. I'm not offended that you thought it was boring. I'm sure I can find something more enjoyable for next weekend," he said, now smiling slightly.

_What?_

"Damian … I'm not trying to apologize for falling asleep on you at the ballet. I'm waiting for you to explain yourself!"

"Regarding what?" He raised an eyebrow.

_Don't look at his abs, don't look at his … abs … mmm…_

Stephanie turned slightly, trying to avoid staring at his shirtless torso, muscles shining with sweat from his workout. This was really starting to turn into a problem.

"Regarding all of your other girlfriends who seemed to make an appearance on our date last night! At the restaurant, then at the theater! And don't think I didn't notice you seem to have a type!"

"Stephanie, what are you talking about? Am I not allowed to speak to people?" he asked, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

"I'm talking about the fact that you seem to be more interested in your giggling group of blondes than the person you were taking on a date!"

"Brown, that is simply untrue," he said loftily. "Also, you are a blonde too."

"Yeah, but my breasts are real," she muttered derisively. She watched his eyes flicker down and back up quickly. Folding her arms across her chest, she shot him a glare and added, "If it had just been the awkwardness at dinner … I can handle awkwardness …"

"Stephanie … you are not as easy to date as other women," Damian said slowly.

Her heart sunk and her face felt hot with embarrassment. _Great, now I'm more high maintenance than some socialite Barbie doll hanging off his every word…_

"You don't let me get away with much. How you make me feel is … challenging… I am not wording this right." He helplessly put a hand to the back of his neck, staring around the cave for inspiration. "I don't know how to impress you."

"When I asked if I could take you seriously, you avoided the question by asking me out. But I need to know, Damian. I'm too old to have to put up with this crap anymore. I want something real. If you want to know how to impress me, make a grown up decision about whether I'm just another blonde on your arm or not," she finished, turning and striding out of the room.

"Stephanie! Wait!"

She paused at the doorway and said wearily, "Take your time. I'm stuck in Gotham until Barbara has her baby anyway. I made a promise." Then she left.


End file.
